


Décor

by mercuryretrograte (brujadelmar)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Community College, Established Relationship, Literature, M/M, Mutual Pining, New York City, Prostitution, Sex, Social Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-12 08:18:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16869445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brujadelmar/pseuds/mercuryretrograte
Summary: It's already been a long-term arrangement, and with a New York loft and more money than he can spend, what more could Jongin want? Lately, though, he's been feeling like a bird in a golden cage.





	Décor

.

 

 

 

He was sitting on the balcony, body on the big chair and feet on the table. The chill music was on and the scent from cinnamon tea was the only thing stopping him from falling asleep on his book. The reading was good, but he was reading for such a long time… There was no other thing that could distract him anymore. The television made him feel bad and the wind was a bit too cold, so he was comfortably inside of a warm blanket.

He forgot to drink the tea; the remaining half of the mug was getting cold. He drank it like that, anyway…

He lost track of the reading and he returned to the top of the page. He rubbed his feet on the freezing metal surface of the table and got chills. He decided to read it out loud as a way to escape his sleepiness.

> “ _And, though at present my friends may find it a hard thing to believe, it is true none the less, that for them living in freedom and idleness and comfort it is easier to learn the lessons of humility than it is for me, who begin the day by going down on my knees and washing the floor of my cell. For prison life with its endless privations and restrictions makes one rebellious. The most terrible thing about it is not that it breaks one’s heart—hearts are made to be broken—but that it turns one’s heart to stone.  One sometimes feels that it is only with a front of brass and a lip of scorn that one can get_ —”

His phone rang. He read the message and sighed.

He wasn’t disappointed, he was used to it, in many ways. Jongin stared at the screen for a long time and then put the phone and the book over the table. He took the blanked off him and adjusted his brown, fluffy robes. It had a cute drawing of a bear on it and a heart. A gift.

He walked inside and turned off the sound boxes. He passed by the mirror and stopped in front of it. He opened his robes slowly and checked out his naked body. He passed a hand by his white – recently died – hair and let his robes fall on the ground.

In his high, quiet loft, he may not hear, but the life is burning outside. He’s at the center of the world and he looks gorgeous. He moved his neck to check the clock on the wall. Two in the morning.

Jongin was waiting and again, Junmyeon didn’t come home like he promised.

He walked to his room and fell on the bed.

The wind was blowing the curtains and the lights of the tall buildings shined in his eyes.

He couldn’t breath for a moment.

Then, he fell asleep.

  
  


___________

 

Jongin loved the noise of the mornings in the cafés, to buy bread and walk around, seeing women running in high heels, carrying phones and purses; men running with car keys and no patience; kids using fashionable clothes and expensive toys. He liked the diversity of faces and languages, the advertising, the musician on the streets. Everything was fascinating and he liked even the details on the streets, the graffiti – he took pictures of it and sent them to his artist friends.

The ladies liked to flirt with him. He flirted back as game. The men checked him out with no shame, because it was truly a free land in some spaces. He didn’t flirt back because he felt guilty to do so; it brought him bad memories too. He didn’t like to drive or to be driven. He loved to walk, to take the subway, to stare at every place as if it was a museum; he went to museums too. Stared at the paintings on the wall and didn’t understand, but smiled anyway.

He always gave money to everyone who begged on the street and especially, to the artists. Jongin loved how it was easy to reunite them. Someone played the violin and suddenly a ballet dancer popped up, following the rhythm. Jongin was mesmerized by any of those things.

He went back home already eating the croissants. He shouldn’t be eating so much sugar, but he didn’t care in this particular week. He had so much time in his hands… He could work out for a longer time. The neighbor's dogs made a mess as soon as they gets in and Jongin has to calm them before even taking off his shoes. He sat at the kitchen table and eat a donut, checking the messages in the phone. His group chats were his basic source of home at a foreign place.

 

.

He feels a kiss on his back.

“Hello…” the voice in his ear is sweet and sleepy.

Jongin looks back.

“Hello,” he says, a bit annoyed. “I didn’t know you got home already.”

He can hear Junmyeon’s disappointed sight.

“I guess I deserve that,” Junmyeon says, walking to the fridge. He has a deep blue towel wrapped around his waist, only. He picks a gallon of water and pours in a cup. Jongin follows with his eyes how the water drops down his back.

Jongin shakes his head and says nothing else. Junmyeon sits at the table too, but don’t eat.

“I’ll have nothing to do tomorrow,” he smiles. “Where do you want to eat?”

Jongin thinks about that. Not where he wants to eat, because that’s irrelevant – after all, they can eat at any place. That’s the whole reason Jongin is there: to sit beautifully and keep company while they have a nice dinner. Jongin doesn’t have any other appointment besides that; his whole routine is based on this moment.

“We could go to a place with good music,” Jongin says uninterested. “I’ll look for one.”

Junmyeon extends his hands and covers Jongin’s gently.

“I know you’re mad at me for a good reason and I do think you look adorable pouting like that,” Junmyeon smiles, “but I want to talk.”

Jongin looks at him and nods, even if he’s not in the mood for that.

“I’ve met a guy who teaches literature, more specifically, the English romance,” he explains, caressing Jongin’s hand gently. “He accepts audits, just as a way of encouraging. I gave him your name…”

Jongin stares at him. Is this his way to apologize? No, too structured – normally he just gets home with flowers, jewelry and expensive gifts. Or simply accepts Jongin’s cold treatment while being nice. This may be a planned thing.

“Where?” Jongin asks cautiously.

“Not a big university, I’m afraid,” Junmyeon says, retreating his hand. “But it’s near and you can just go without any responsibility but learn. If you enjoy it, we can look for…”

He starts to rant and it makes Jongin feel bad. Junmyeon is a busy man. Looking at him as he is, now, sitting, half-naked, wet hair and soft eyes, Jongin could laugh. The first time they met, Junmyeon was dressed like a god, perfect hair and face, shiny shoes and Rolex. He was an easy victim; Jongin knew how to identify them. The awkward hold on a pretty girl that was obviously hired to be there. The inner anxiety that belonged to a deep feeling of hiding insecurities while being cocky to the public eye, no matter what. Jongin was in the peak of his escort days – all he had to do was stand there and wait. He used to take care of himself better, to look always like he was made to be worshipped.

Thinking that way, both are kind of a mess. That’s what happen with married couples and that’s what they are, basically. Except the prestige of using rings, Jongin could star in the new Desperate Housewives, because that’s what his life became since they arrived in New York. The first months were exciting and effervescent; a whole new world. English classes, famous places, fun parties and a good, stable sex life.

“… and I think you already got the most part of the documents, except—”

“I’m fine with it,” Jongin says, just to shut him up. Junmyeon lights up, because he probably was expecting Jongin to shut him off. He tried to convince Jongin to do anything, but that made Jongin angry. Junmyeon was paying for his company, not to solve Jongin’s problems. Initially, was just small dinners and some money, now, Junmyeon pays every bill, so the last thing Jongin wants – to save the rest of his pride, - is to bother him anymore.

“Thank you,” Junmyeon smiles. “I’m going to take a nap, wanna come with me?”

Jongin doesn’t answer. It’s not like it’s anything but nap and cuddle; Junmyeon have been working for more time than he should and Jongin knows he’s too simple to avoid saying what he truly wants. But Jongin still wants to punish him for not being there when he was ready to be loved. He wouldn’t do that if it wasn’t Junmyeon; during his prime days, he was known for giving exactly what people wanted. But Junmyeon likes when Jongin behaves like a spoiled child. It’s their private game, where Jongin can be as petty as he wants. Junmyeon is attentive, caring and he likes to role play.

“I… understand,” Junmyeon sighs, a bit frustrated. “I miss your hugs, baby bear.”

Jongin ignores him and goes back to his food. Junmyeon leaves, walking slowly. Jongin licks his fingers and smile.

 

.

 

The restaurant is a bit over the top, but Junmyeon is trying to apologize, anyway. Jongin isn’t hungry and he wants just a good wine or a champagne bottle. The only thing he’s aiming for is a drunk night of good sex after long days without his partner available. But he can’t and he won’t complain; he knows that this is Junmyeon favorite part – he loves to go to new places, to have new experiences and to be seen. Junmyeon was born to be a star, but life made him a business man, so this is his stage. Jongin is there as an actor too; as someone who seems to be the protagonist but it’s not. People look at him first, he’s the center of the party, no doubt. Then, they realize that someone brought him there, someone has the money to have him and this someone is right beside him. The real star.

Jongin loves this social, bright side of Junmyeon. It made him curious, at the start, to understand why he had to pay for a company. Jongin himself was pretty picky, so he believed it had to do with sex. Maybe knowing he has the control of the situation… he would be turned on.

But Junmyeon never asked for sex. Jongin did.

Jongin likes to seduce his partners; dance for them, eat slowly, lick his lips, touch them… it was better than regular, boring sex. It was like performing to a sole audience, who paid too much to get a mediocre show. Then Jongin would give them the show of their lives, because he was far from being mediocre.

Junmyeon was… is hot. Young, talented, social… not shy. Liked dicks, that’s true, but who cares? He was no ‘new money’ guy. No one would disrespect him for showing up with a man – which sometimes he did, according to Jongin’s sources. He had boyfriends, girlfriends and he hired people to go out with him. After two or three dinners, Jongin started to believe that Junmyeon has some sort of obscure past or a big secret that made him single. As the time went by, Jongin realized that the answer was just in front of him: Junmyeon has no time to himself. He was ambitious and prone to sacrifice his youth in order to get where he desired to be. He overworked himself as a routine and it was impossible for him to have a relationship as normal people did. It was hard to Jongin sometimes to understand that they had only a three-years age gap. Jongin spend his days having fun, meeting friends, doing what he loved… Junmyeon worked since his teenager years, when he was still in school. It wasn’t like it was oppressive – he always had money, after all. Yet, it’s complicated for him to talk about hobbies and favorite things. He likes movies and enjoyed music, but that’s all he could do with his sparse free time. Jongin even had the guts to call one of his exes to confirm; it’s ridiculous that now, even being paid, he’s living exactly what the others lived.

Jongin tells himself he doesn’t care. He’s making money. He’s living in an expensive New York building, sleeping in silk, having a life just like in the movies… but it does feel like a movie, not real life. The loneliness is palpable, the minutes feel like hours and he’s sleeping in a cold bed. That wasn’t what he expected his twenties to be…

“What do you want?” Junmyeon asks gently. Jongin is probably holding the menu for twenty minutes. “Do you want to ask for the Chef’s special?”

“No, I’m not hungry,” Jongin smiles and passes his fingers through his hair, fixing it. He can feel the eyes on him – they are probably asking who they are, where they come from, what are they… “I want something to drink.”

“Nothing to eat, baby?” Junmyeon frowns. “At least try the entry. You’ll get drunk on alcohol only.”

“Fine,” Jongin agrees. They make ridiculously small dishes, charging an impossible amount of money for such thing. It won’t make any difference.

He watches how Junmyeon orders in English. His pronunciation tricks people easily and Jongin finds it weirdly sexy. Maybe he’s too horny.

“I hope champagne is okay…” Junmyeon says. “I asked for a low alcohol one…”

“It’s great” Jongin says, distracted. “Why don’t you tell me what you have done these days?”

“Oh,” Junmyeon nods. “Of course. It was pretty boring, but I guess I do have one funny anecdote to tell you about our publicist…”

Junmyeon laughs before he even tells and Jongin knows, he just knows it won’t be funny at all – but he listens, because it’s why he’s there. He even smiles, because he wants to please Junmyeon. This type of warmth and intimacy only Jongin can give to him, after all.

“Oh,” Junmyeon says, just after they were served. “I got some news, I think.”

Jongin is looking to the tiny cake with some sort of nacho tucked in and he’s not sure of what think.

“What it is?” He asks gently and uses the (tiny) spoon to take a piece of it.

“I’m starting the process to get my American citizenship,” he says. “I mean, it’s been a while, but I remembered it today, since I has to take more documents…”

Jongin takes a while to react, because the cake has some ricotta, crab and some sugary thing that doesn’t help the taste.

“Oh,” he says, munching with disgust. “I thought we—you were leaving when the contracted ended?”

“I don’t know yet,” Junmyeon says. “It… this cake… it’s salty, but isn’t spicy enough.”

“Most things here aren’t spicy enough,” Jongin adds, but that’s not the reason he’s uncomfortable. Jongin is staying with a work visa, authorized by the same enterprise that Junmyeon is hired. They put him as a translator, but it was just a way to accommodate Jongin in the country, since they weren’t married and he couldn’t be labeled as Junmyeon’s family. If Junmyeon decides to stay more than two years, then things could change between them.

“We can ask for something else,” Junmyeon says, but Jongin is busy opening the bottle himself. “I can call someo—”

“I had enough practice,” Jongin says, shaking the bottle. “I can do on my own.”

Junmyeon laughs and observes him. Jongin knew that he would eat that horrendous cake; Junmyeon hates to be a bad guest, even when he’s paying for it. Jongin pours the champagne in his glass only, because someone has to drive and Junmyeon only drinks wine, sweet wine. He has a sweet tooth.

“Are you going to get drunk?” Junmyeon frowns. “I wanted us to watch a play after dinner.”

“Yes, but not much,” Jongin moves his leg under the table to touch his. “Not in a mood to use my mind.”

Junmyeon’s mouth makes a small ‘o’ and Jongin drinks his champagne as a small victory. The rest of the dinner is just a bunch of formalities; boring conversations they should do because well, that why Jongin is there. To share dinners. To look good. A nice adornment that sometimes is useful.

“I found a book on the table at home,” Junmyeon says casually, while they leave. Someone is getting the car and they have to wait, but it already began. Their little game. “Are you reading something new?”

“It’s a letter from Oscar Wilde,” Jongin says quietly, fixing his shirt. “It’s a bit more complicated. The old English.”

“Oh, I see,” Junmyeon touches his back, let his hands slide and stops by his waist. “Are you enjoying it?”

“Very much,” Jongin uses his low tone as a warning. “Beautiful words.”

They’re babbling. Jongin can only think about sex and the whole car ride is a torture. He would gladly do something, but Junmyeon likes things in their right place. They never met in hotels, never groped in bathrooms; a good bed with soft blankets was their only love nest. Jongin doesn’t question – he loves this side of him. When Junmyeon isn’t nice anymore, but hard and demanding. Junmyeon has strict rules and he doesn’t care about Jongin being a bratty child as long as he doesn’t break them.

But he can’t resist a bit of teasing.

“Hey,” he grabs Jongin by the waist, looking up. Jongin smiles; their height difference never ceases to please him. “You look gorgeous today.”

“Do I?” Jongin touches his black tie, fingers sliding down the fabric. “You say this every time.”

They’re alone in the elevator, but anyone can come in.

“There’s no moment when I get tired of looking at you,” Junmyeon says softly and at this point, Jongin already melted in his arms. “I guess I keep repeating myself, since it’s the same feeling.”

Jongin kisses him, because he’s not interested in words anymore. Just a soft kiss, that suits the not-so-public display. He loves Junmyeon’s perfume and soft touch and he’s anticipating. He wants to take as much as he wants to give.

They break contact before they leave the elevator, even if there’s no one to witness. Junmyeon open the door with the card and Jongin starts to unbuttoning his own shirt. Normally, they made it last longer, but Junmyeon must be missing him too, he walks straight to the room as a warning. Jongin smiles, satisfied and takes his clothes one by one before getting there. No surprises.

Or maybe there is. Junmyeon is still taking off his clothes. Jongin stops by the door and watches him undressing. He’s confident and with a reason; he’s beautiful.

He turns back and stares for a long time.

“I’ve missed you,” he says and the sincerity of his tone makes Jongin runs to his arms.

They always fuck in a rising line of hunger. Deep kisses, soft touches at first, when they’re still tasting; after that, it’s less about touching and more about reaching. Jongin knows it – knows the exact point where they will stop being soft and start being anxious.

This time, he let Junmyeon fuck him from behind. It’s not their favorite position, but it works just fine. In the beginning they used to spend a long time on blowjobs, bites and kisses. Jongin thought it was a bit sappy, but sometimes it felt like he was being taken care of and it felt good. Now, with no time to waste, a good raw fuck was about being dirty and effective.

Jongin is drooling on the pillow, but he stills pushes back and tries his best to emits the hottest noises. He doesn’t want to touch himself, but he really wants to come.

“Let it go,” Junmyeon says and he still sounds elegant in the verge of orgasm. “Do it.”

Jongin obeys and touches himself; it’s harder when he’s drunk, but he feels more and thinks less.

“You did so good,” Junmyeon whispers, hands gripping him tighter. “You’re amazing.”

That’s how he comes, pleasing Jongin. A fulltime gentleman.

“Babe, don’t move,” Jongin asks. He likes the feeling of being full. “Just a moment.”

“Fine,” Junmyeon says weakly. “But you have to let me rest.”

“I will,” Jongin closes his eyes. He doesn’t say anything, because he’s afraid of exposing himself. Junmyeon caresses his waist gently.

“I…” Jongin mumbles and nothing else comes out.

  
  
  
  


.

He can’t just say _I love you._

He’s made to be disposable. Their entire relationship is like a plastic cup. Jongin is there because Junmyeon has no time to invest in a real relationship. Right now, Junmyeon needs a company to dinners, a pretty person to be around him and sometimes warm his bed. That never bothered Jongin before, but after two years being exclusively – an actual demand for “health” reasons – attending him, it’s hard not to get attached. When they were back on Seoul, it was easier for Jongin to escape – he had family and friends to distract him. Now, he may meet a lot of people, but Junmyeon is the center of his world. He’s the whole reason why Jongin is there.

But it’s getting useless. Jongin doesn’t even check his bank account anymore. Besides the money that he sends back home, he doesn’t need that much. Junmyeon keeps covering him in expensive gifts – Jongin may have the entire last collection of Gucci in his closet – to avoid dealing with the reality: soon he’ll kick Jongin to have a life with someone like him and no money will fix what he took. Jongin should wake up happy, but he has a bad taste in his mouth.

Junmyeon is still sleeping. He’s not a morning cuddler so Jongin gets out of the bed and puts on pants and a shirt.  He goes to the kitchen, to see if he has forgotten any food he bought, and he finds his phone on the ground.

He spends an hour just checking Instagram. He saves some pictures of his friends, because that’s all he can do now. He hears Junmyeon’s voice and Jongin is used to that: the first thing in the morning is answering the phone.

He sits on the couch and stares at the dark screen.

  


.

  
  


He’s scared, that’s the thing. He doesn’t like new things. He spent at lest four hours trying on clothes that make him look good, but also appropriate to a class. He debates on the glasses, but ends ep putting them. The place isn’t that far, but he hails a taxi, just in case. It’s a community college, so Jongin is using his cheapest clothes, only bland colors – he has never been in an American college, anyway. He wouldn’t know the difference.

He tries to guide himself with the map on his phone and he actually finds the class pretty easily, so he has to wait next to the door. As the first students walk in and sit, he does the same, in the corner. He looks at them; some come in groups, one or three come alone, sit and wait. They’re using casual clothes and two are using some work uniform. Jongin classified the look of the guy on the left – adidas from head to toe – almost ok. Nice color combination. The professor walks down the stairs checking some papers and Jongin has to wait a bit to talk to him.

“Hello,” Jongin tries his best accent, smiling. “Good morning.”

“Oh, hello,” the man smiles back. He’s short and he has to look up to Jongin.  

“I’m Kim Jongin. I applied to the open seat,” Jongin says simply. “It’s nice to meet you, Prof. Rossetti.”

“Oh, yes,” the man nods. “I was actually waiting for you. Did you get the email with the content list?”

“Yes,” Jongin answers quickly. “I have the entire material, including the recommended books.”

The man seems surprised, but he just laughs softly. His coat is a bit used, but Jongin can see that he’s actually looks like a University Professor did in the movies. Maybe Jongin was a bit prejudiced about the “community” thing.

The class isn’t big, about thirty people. Jongin sits back and opens his laptop.

“First class of the semester,” the professor says, casually, fixing his material over the table. “I’m Professor Rossetti and I’ll be your lecturer until the last day if no catastrophe hits us…”

They laugh and Jongin looks at them, confused.

“In case if you want the print material, ask for the list on the library, it’s under Introduction to Literature, unfortunately it hasn’t enough to every one of you, but some of the books are already in public dominium,” he says, putting on his glass. “In case you don’t like to read, it’s the moment for you to leave. We’ll have to visit different genres in a short space of time, so it’ll be a bit heavy on your schedule, I’m sorry to inform. If you came here for easy credits, I won’t help you.”

Jongin smiled in anticipation.

  
  
  
  


He leaves the gym carrying the water bottle, his phone, his card, and the book. One or two neighbors look at the book a bit confused – they hardly speak to him. Some of them believe Jongin can’t speak English because they only see him speaking to Junmyeon. It must be a shock to catch him reading Dracula.

He’s feeling too dirty, so, instead of leaving the building to get some food, he goes straight up to his apartment to take a shower. He passes the card on the door and he can’t help but get surprised when he founds a man in the middle of the room.

“Hello,” Jongin asks, stepping behind. The man turns. Oh.

“Hello, Jongin,” Yixing looks surprised too. “Ah, I didn’t think you were still here, but since you are, can you help me to find Junmyeon’s notebook?”

“I… yes,” Jongin says, stepping in and closing the door. Yixing is dressed like he was at work and that must explain his hurry – he’s normally very polite and slow. “He leaves it in the nightstand next to our—his bed.”

“Ah,” Yixing mumbles. “Could you…”

“Of course,” Jongin drops his things on the couch and hurries inside to get his notebook. He finds it where Junmyeon always forgets it. How could he forget such a big thing, Jongin can’t understand. He gives it to Yixing, maintaining a distance between them, because he’s probably smelling like sweat.

“Hey,” Yixing smiles. “Thank you.”

“Are you two working now?” Jongin asks, apprehensive. “He could have called me. I would take it to him.”

“I was near, so I offered to rescue it,” he says playfully and the old Yixing, Junmyeon’s gentle business partner was back. Jongin smiles – not once Yixing mistreated him or judge him. He was a gentleman. However, Jongin knows that something is wrong. He can sense it.

“Why did you say that you didn’t expect to see me here?” Jongin asks carefully. “I was in the gym… It’s downstairs.”

“Oh,” Yixing licks his lips. “Junmyeon told me you were supposed to be back at Seoul now…”

“I delayed the travel because of the semester…” Jongin looks to the books instinctively. “I’ll go when I finish it.”

“Yes, your college,” Yixing snaps his fingers. “I forgot about it. I’m sorry… I have to give this to him…”

“That’s okay,” Jongin nods, trying his best to smile. “You can go, have a lovely day.”

“So do you,” Yixing says, waving. Jongin opens the door for him and stays in the same spot after closing it.

 

He lays in the bathtub and thinks about it. What if Junmyeon is… just tired of him? What if Jongin is actually in his way, not making his life easier? Maybe that’s the reason why he tried so hard to put Jongin in a college. Maybe it was the way to get rid of him easily, offering some independence.

Jongin goes to bed earlier and takes his book with him. He is about to take a decision, but he needs to finish what he started.

> “ _Do you believe in destiny? That even the powers of time can be altered for a single purpose? That the luckiest man who walks on this earth is the one who finds… true love?”_

Jongin recites it out loud in an empty room. “I expected this to be less cheesy and scarier…”

He’s happy with the reading. He hears someone coming in and Junmyeon pops in the door, in one of his habitual suits. He’s carrying a box.

“Hello,” he smiles sweetly. “I am finally home.”

“Hello,” Jongin tries to keep his voice table and to smile genuinely. “You’re actually early, based on the last monthly schedule…”

“Yeah, I got out of trouble because you found my notebook,” Junmyeon walks in. “Yixing told me you helped him. Thank you.”

“No problem,” Jongin says and goes back to his reading. Junmyeon is still standing in the middle of the room.

“I brought your favorite cake,” he says tentatively. Jongin knows his unsure voice. “Do you want to eat with me?”

Jongin closes the book and looks at him.

“I’m not hungry,” he says simply. “I can keep you company, if you want to.”

“No, you don’t have to,” Junmyeon smiles. “I’ll take a bath, eat and join you in bed.”

Jongin raises one eyebrow when he turns back. It’s hard to focus on the book and Jongin gives up and turns off the lights and gets under the sheets. He doesn’t fall asleep easily, so he stares at the window, where the city lights refuse to let the room completely dark. He listens to Junmyeon’s steps and feels when he gets on bed. Jongin pretends to be sleeping.

He feels a lightly, barely touching caress on his hand. He pretends that he didn’t feel anything.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


.

 

“You look terrible,” Amber says. “I mean, you’re still hot and everything, but you look bad.”

“It’s been a confusing month,” he nods. He forgot to put on basic makeup and his hair was so messy that he just put on a cap and left home. “But I didn’t want to miss class.”

He walks around the corridor looking at the people passing by. Some of them are really young, about seventeen, eighteen years old. He feels like an old man in his middle twenties, walking and learning the same place of them. It makes him painfully aware of how much time he spent pleasing other people instead of himself. If he wasn’t so focused in money and being in a good position, maybe he would be another person now. Maybe he would be a teacher, someone with lots of friends and things to do. Amber is older than him, but she was travelling and making music; the only reason why she was so late at attending classes was because she wasn’t interested in a college degree. Jongin feels so dumb and so left behind during classes, eager but not prepared enough. Those American kids get the references easily, laughing fast writing faster. Jongin couldn’t stop reading and studying, worried that the language and the gap years made him not good enough to execute the simple task of learning.

“You never skip classes,” Amber smiles, her backpack being supported by the left shoulder and making a repetitive noise. “You’ll do just great, Jongin. Are you having any trouble I can help with?”

He sighs discreetly because Amber is nice and helps him with the native expressions he can’t figure out. They do speak the same languages, but in a different order. Her English is fluid, natural, born and raised; she stutters in Korean, laughs about her own mediocracy. They happened to have friends in common and she told him on the first day that she took classes as a plan b – she didn’t pay college any attend besides the strictly necessary, but now they’re studying together and she does it pretty well. Even with the proximity between them, even having a friend who had so many things in common, he had no strength to tell her about his life. He was afraid that she would lose respect that she would looks at him as a prostitute.

“Kind of,” he smiles. “How about your roommate?”

“Still the worst,” she complains and he knew it would distract her. “She decided to cook French fries at three in the morning, the entire house was greasy when I woke up…”

Jongin listens to her complaints, nods to make her happy. Amber is a weird person like him, dresses in a masculine way, short hair and boyish gestures. He likes that she’s a misfit, makes him feel comfortable talking to her. She’s gay and so is he, both know it but they never discuss it, because it’s not necessary.

“Hey, have you seen the last kissing booth post?” She asks, taking her phone from her jeans. “It’s totally about you.”

“What’s that?” Jongin frowns. “Kissing booth?”

“Ah, I always forget that you live in last century and doesn’t have a Facebook,” she mumbles, typing. “Also, your Instagram has pretty pictures, but you barely use it.”

“I only keep Instagram to catch up with my nephew and niece,” he explains. “What did they post about me?”

She handles him the phone. It’s just a small post under the College’s student page. He stops walking to read.

**The Kissing Booth:** _Does anyone know anything about the Asian guy who attends Intr. Lit I and sits on the front? He’s hot as fuck and uses expensive clothes, but no ring in sight. Gotta know if he’s going to any parties so I can go too~~_

Jongin smiles, it’s funny.

“I won’t go to any parties,” he says, giving back the phone. “But that was cute.”

“Do you think so? I think this is creepy,” Amber moves her head to take her bangs away from her eyes. “Being seen that way, but having no idea of who’s that person.”

Jongin was used to it. He was used to been seen and to simply not care about who. Jongin is made to be seen. That’s his job, his truly job – if it wasn’t, Junmyeon would never go out in the streets with him. Jongin goes to class and looks around, looking at every face, trying to picture who could possibly have a crush on him.

It doesn’t matter.

>   
>    
> 
> 
> " _Oh, I can't explain. When I like people immensely, I never tell their names to anyone. It is like surrendering a part of them. I have grown to love secrecy. It seems to be the one thing that can make modern life mysterious or marvelous to us. The commonest thing is delightful if one only hides it. When I leave town now I never tell my people where I am going. If I did, I would lose all my pleasure. It is a silly habit, I dare say, but somehow it seems to bring a great deal of romance into one's life. I suppose you think me awfully foolish about it?"_

 

“You truly love this guy, right?” Junmyeon’s voice breaks the reading line. “I’ve seen you reading him before.”

Jongin looks up, surprised. He only got back to reading because Junmyeon left the table to answer the phone. He looks around, like he was back from another place and not just simply a reading. The white curtains are moving, the food is in the table in a basket and the glasses are full of juice.

“I… It’s a classic book, Dorian Gray,” Jongin shows him the cover. “English literature, I have to read to the test.”

“Is there a test?” Junmyeon sounds genuinely confused, picking a knife and a bread. Jongin watches him spreading jelly on it, his pretty hands.

“Yes, for now,” Jongin nods. “A long quiz… but the final work is a paper.”

Junmyeon’s eyes get wider and a bit of jelly falls from his bread, not too close from his immaculate white pearl button-up shirt. Jongin is grateful because he loves this shirt and Junmyeon sometimes gets out of control with weird clothes.

“A paper, that sounds serious,” he frowns. “Do you want to take a short class on academic writing? I’m pretty sure that one of my cowor—”

“No,” Jongin cuts him, putting the book on the table, right next to his empty white plate. “No, don’t worry about that, I probably won’t do the paper.”

Junmyeon chews the bread, frowning and looking at him. An indie French song is playing and the sunlight is over the table, fighting the big umbrella over them. It’s one of these moments, Jongin thinks, smelling the air, listening to the words in English and the people laughing, one of the moments where he believes that his life is a movie. Pure fantasy.

“Why?” Junmyeon says, picking his glass of Juice. “Are you not required to?”

“I don’t need to do evaluations if I’m not interested in credits,” Jongin explains and picks one cute red cookie. “And I’m just watching the classes, so…”

“Still would be a good experience,” Junmyeon considers. “But I do understand that you don’t want the pressure yet. But when you attend the college as a regular, you’ll have to.”

“I’m not planning in having an academic career,” Jongin says, playing with the cookie before eating it.

“You don’t have to become a Ph.D.,” Junmyeon smiles and offers him the plate full of pancakes, honey dripping down the pile. Jongin picks it, but he’s uncomfortable with the conversation.

“I won’t be even here during the last classes anyway,” Jongin shrugs. “So it makes no sense to worry about it.”

“You won’t be here?” Junmyeon stops with the glass in the middle of the way to his mouth.

“I’m going back home earlier,” Jongin doesn’t say ‘this time’ or add any other information. A couple in the nearest table stand up and leaving, taking the loud laughter with them. Jongin cuts the pancakes slowly while Junmyeon stares at him.

“Ah,” he mumbles, finally. “Why don’t you wait until the end of the semester?”

“I miss my family, my friends, my house,” Jongin says pointedly. He wants Junmyeon to know that he has many things, that he doesn’t depend on any man. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen them. And as I’ve said, I don’t have an interest in an academic degree… right now.”

Junmyeon takes a moment and then drinks the juice, finishing it and placing on the table carefully. Jongin eats in silence until he feels satisfied. Junmyeon eats the rest of his bread and then nothing else.

“When are you going to come back?” He asks, way too formally. “After your birthday?”

“No,” Jongin shrugs. “I don’t know when.”

It would be easier, Jongin knows, if they just discussed it. But Jongin is using an information from Yixing; he’s supposing and now, Junmyeon is doing the same. But now they’re going to have a lovely day together and the sun is out even in a cold day like this one, when winter is near, like it’s begging to Jongin to keep quiet and enjoy their day and the last month of them together.

“You’re planning on going in early December?” Junmyeon asks suddenly. “To go, I mean.”

“Not really,” Jongin says. “I bough the ticket to the end of November.”

Junmyeon seems genuinely taken aback. It’s the last week of October and it’ll be cold soon. Jongin looks at his own reflection on the big spoon, the silver hair shining, but the black roots are there too. He needs to visit his hair stylish. Maybe now he’ll dye it pink or brown, just to change a bit.

Junmyeon pays the bill and there are still many plates with breakfast food on the table that neither of them has touched. When they leave the restaurant. Junmyeon offers his hand and Jongin holds it, interlacing their fingers. It feels good and Jongin knows that he’s still has to act as he’s used to. Junmyeon only lets his hand go when he has to enter the car.

They are weirdly quiet during the exposition – Junmyeon usually talks a lot and Jongin normally has a million questions to ask. Now, they just appreciate the art and wait until it’s time to watch the musical Junmyeon wants them to see. It’s a child play, classic and fun and Junmyeon played the main character on a school project, once, but Jongin himself had never even heard about the story.

“It’s time,” Jongin whispers when they were watching the sculptures. “We have to go…”

He points to at his Rolex, but Junmyeon is looking at his face. Jongin blinks, confused.

“You look gorgeous,” Junmyeon whispers back. “Let’s go.”

Jongin reads the book in the way to the theatre and Junmyeon is listening to a soft music, fingers tapping the steering wheel. Jongin glances at his pretty face once in a while, he’s frowning.

They get in a better mood on the theatre, which is full of loud kids and families. They can’t hold hands and Jongin is afraid to interact with the kids, but he watches them with a smile on his face. Before they sit, Jongin wipes one tear; he truly misses his family. Junmyeon doesn’t notice, but he grabs Jongin’s hand when the lights go down.

When the play ends, Jongin stand up and claps. It was very good, no less entertaining than a play aimed at adults. Junmyeon is still sitting and he’s checking his phone. Jongin is so used to it that he doesn’t even pay attention anymore. Everyone leaves and one of the kids walk near Jongin to check his hair. It’s a boy and he looks like he’s two or three, mesmerized by Jongin’s hair.

“Sorry,” his mother says, picking him up.

“No problem,” Jongin smiles. He looks back and Junmyeon is still on his phone. The seats are empty, most people left. Jongin waits.

“You can go home without me, hail a cab,” Junmyeon says, standing up. “I have a problem to solve at work.”

“Fine,” Jongin says, nodding slowly. He’s not feeling anything. They’re finally acting like their normal selves.

Junmyeon walks to him and touches his arm.

“I know I normally say I’ll get home earlier and I don’t,” he mumbles. “But this time it’s true. I’ll be home at dinner time.”

Jongin looks at him and nods again.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Jongin feels stupid getting ready for him. He lost the count of many times he stood naked, cleaned and shaved, watching the time goes by. Jongin puts on that almond-like perfume that makes Junmyeon smell him twice, he takes their hidden box under the bed and sits to read a book, just in case. He’s almost falling asleep, Dorian Gray on the ground, when he hears the door opening. Junmyeon is still using the same clothes and he says nothing to Jongin – he walks straight to the bathroom. Jongin hears him in the shower and thinks that maybe he’s too tired.

Junmyeon opens the door using a towel and he takes it easily, dropping on the chair. He walks to Jongin and kisses him. It’s a hungry kiss, so intense that he barely notices when his robe is taken. Junmyeon pushes him gently to the bed, never stopping the kiss, now messy, saliva dripping down Jongin’s chin. Junmyeon’s hands are everywhere and Jongin gasps when he kisses his neck, open-mouthed, sucking kisses. Jongin pushes him down, grabs his waist, touches him, appreciating the hardness.

Jongin is babbling, because it’s been too long since Junmyeon gave him hickeys and he likes the feeling, the thin line between pleasure and pain. He’s anxious, hands trying to find relief. Junmyeon stops touching him and turns his attention to the box. When he takes the analgesic lube, Jongin’s heart races. It’s reserved to Jongin’s favorite position or a long night of sex.

It’s both, Jongin realizes, hands on Junmyeon’s chest, rising and falling on him. Junmyeon’s grip on his thighs haven’t loosened since they started and Jongin already got him dirty once. He loves when he can move like this, rolling his hips, controlling the chase of their orgasm. He likes how Junmyeon allows him to do whatever he wants but keep holding him, reassuring him.

Jongin licks his lips and sits harder, moving his hips in a circle, head thrown back. He licks his lips and mumbles something unintelligible, trembling. Junmyeon caresses his tights and Jongin squirms, feeling full.

He looks down, hair glued to his forehead, sweat all over his face and smiles. Junmyeon isn’t smiling back.

  
  
  
  
  
  


It’s different.

Jongin knows it by the smallest things. The food on the fridge, the daily calls or the most frequent dinners. They eat mostly at home, now. Junmyeon bought a nice tablecloth that reminds Jongin of his mother’s one – he certainly didn’t find that thing at Walmart. It’s definitely something he bought in a travel and Jongin touches it every dinner.  Junmyeon also asks more about the books – Jongin is reading some Irish books and he’s sure Junmyeon doesn’t know it very well, but he listens anyway. When they go out, Junmyeon is impatient at lines and traffic, something that he has never been before. Actually, Jongin only sees him mad when it’s about rules being broken and people being disrespectful.

He doesn’t give Jongin so many expensive gifts. Once in a while, he brings something with a bear on it.

“For you, baby bear,” he smiles. The nickname was often used when he was in trouble, but now he calls Jongin like that all the time.

Jongin is truly confused. The homemade meals, the new unexpected anger, the unstable sex routine… Jongin isn’t sure of what’s going to happen, but it’s soon, he thinks. He’ll find out soon.

He reads and reads it again because he found out that he never actually read a book how it’s supposed to. That’s the biggest lesson he learns, how to train his perspective. Now, he looks for metaphors, symbols, hidden messages… purpose. He’s busy trying to get better and trying to forget Junmyeon at the same time that he’s there, demanding Jongin attention.

In the night before the test, Jongin gets stressed. He feels infinitely ignorant, incapable and he explodes in tears suddenly, like all of his nervousness became water.

Junmyeon gets home with food and Jongin can’t stop crying, but thinks, vaguely, that he should have taken a good bath. He locks himself in the bathroom and tries to look better under a hot shower, but when he leaves, his face is still swollen and red. He thinks about putting on makeup but then gives up.

“What happened?” Junmyeon asks worriedly when Jongin sits to eat.

“Nothing,” Jongin puts the slice of pizza on the plate. “Just anxious about the test.”

It wasn’t just that, Jongin notices. He still feels like he’s lying.

“You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to,” Junmyeon says and he reaches to hold Jongin’s hand. “You can get more prepared and—”

“It’s fine,” Jongin takes his hand off his hold and sighs. “I don’t need help.”

He hates being pitied. Junmyeon doesn’t say anything else; few minutes later he’s telling Jongin a joke and smiling, but doesn’t feel natural. Junmyeon suggests a movie, but Jongin takes him to their room and sucks him dry. It distracts him, the sex, but Jongin doesn’t want to be touched or comforted, so when he finishes, he takes a bath and comes back to bad to sleep. Junmyeon is in the same spot, confused and boneless, but asks no questions.

 

When Jongin wakes up, Junmyeon is holding his hand in bed.

  
  
  
  
  
  


After checking his contacts twice, Jongin decides that he can’t simply confess what’s going on to the people back at home. He’s leaving in a couple of weeks and they will worry until there, with him beyond their reach. He needs someone that can’t judge him, that won’t look at him differently, someone like him. He doesn’t know former consorts in New York, but he has a chill friend that often doesn’t care about people’s past.

Amber drinks her coffee and Jongin pushes the one he ordered, offering to her. She gladly accepts, but doesn’t say a word to interrupt his train of thought.

“I was nineteen when I started doing it, so maybe I haven’t calculated how much it would affect my future,” he says, smashing a bear plushie in his hands, and accidentally pushing the chair a bit. The noise made Amber cringe. “In my mind, as long as no one knew about it, I was safe and okay. So I kept doing it.”

“Did anyone find out?” She asks, frowning.

“No,” Jongin unconsciously looked around, but it was late and they were alone in the corner of the Starbucks. “I have… a friend who knows about it, but most people just think that I’ve dated rich people and that’s all.”

“Ah, I see,” she nods. “But do you family think that you date rich guys and they’re like… okay with it?”

“They are worried about it. That’s probably why they allowed me to come here… They think it’s safer here, you know, to exist,” he and Amber laughed sadly. She’s there for the same reason and they both know that a thing like a safe place doesn’t exist. “They think that I’m in an actual serious relationship with him.”

“And you’re not?” She leans her head, squinting her eyes. “Because based on what you’ve described about you two, it does sound like that.”

Jongin licks his lips and avoid eye contact. She has a good point and it’s pretty obvious.

“I know it does, but it’s because…” he sighs, frustrated. “Look, I accepted coming because I wanted to experience new things, but I wouldn’t share a roof with someone I didn’t like. Of course, I knew he was my favorite. He had no flaws I could’ve point to stop me from living—”

“He had no flaws?” Amber almost spits her coffee. It makes a small taint on her white jumper, but she doesn’t seem to notice it. “Like he doesn’t fart or…?”

“I am picky,” Jongin opens his arms, making a point. “I don’t go to bed with ugly, dirty, disrespectful and disgusting men. I mean, when I have a choice. He’s absolutely great, for a rich guy paying for a company. You should know that I’ve seen, heard and experienced hell with those assholes.”

He didn’t plan to make her feel that shocked – Amber visibly leaned back, as if she was realizing what that meant.

“Nothing was too serious,” he reaches for her hand. “Otherwise, I would have stopped.”

Amber sighs and drinks her coffee, quiet for a moment. Then, she holds his hand back and Jongin realizes that she was the only person besides Junmyeon who did that in that country. It hits him how lonely he is, how simple it was, to just hold a hand.

“You haven’t told me two things, friend,” she says gently. “Why did you started and when you will end it? It can’t be your life forever.”

Jongin looks at her and retreats his hand gently. He needs to be sure of his words – he never shared that before.

“My dad was sick when I was a teenager,” he starts, gulping. “It wasn’t… something that could be cured, but we could offer him some comfort to live his life. As the time went by, the medical expenses got bigger and I felt the need to help my family… I couldn’t work, I was finishing school and being the youngest one, my sisters would never allow me to work instead of studying.”

“Oh,” she says and the cold air makes him rubs his arms. “I’m sorry.”

“He’s… he’s not with us anymore,” Jongin says softly. “I lied to them about doing a paid project on school. I gave them some money and I keep doing it. They have their own, but I want everyone to have the best.”

He thinks about his nephew, his niece and his heart hurts. He’s so far away…

“I…” he continues. “I don’t have a plan yet to do it. I don’t like new things and starting from zero makes me feel unsure. I know I have to do it, but I don’t want to do it here.”

Amber nods and Jongin tears the arm of the bear plushie without noticing.

“So, your plan is going back home and never return?” Amber asks.

“Yes, for now,” Jongin mumbles. “I learned a few things here that can help me find a job. Maybe I’ll attend class there. At least I won’t have language problems…”

“But would you do that if you didn’t suspect that your… I mean, this dude, that he doesn’t want you here anymore,” Amber shakes her coffee with the straw. “I mean, you’re clearly in love with him.”

Jongin stares at her, thinking about a good answer, a way to explain that he wasn’t that foolish, but in fact, he is. Maybe, and he realizes it silently, he was a bit in love since the beginning. The whole “lets-live-in-another-country” was absurd; he became a trophy husband without questioning a thing, selling his freedom that easily. A lot of things could have gone wrong, way worse than he could imagine.

“But I’m not happy anymore,” Jongin shrugs. “This is what a mature break-up feels like?”

“Never had one,” Ambers sighs. “But yeah, man.”

Jongin closes his eyes for a moment and thinks about his uncertain future and how it will be ten times worse without Junmyeon.

“How was your test?” He asks Amber suddenly. She makes a gesture indicating she had no idea.

“I wrote five pages,” Jongin tears the other bear’s arm. “I am so nervous.”

“You didn’t have to do it,” Amber says. “You won’t even do that paper. You’re getting stressed for no reason.”

No, he thinks to himself. It does have a reason.

  
  


He opens the door like he came home; without thinking, mind wandering too far. What he could do with himself? What life will be when he comes back home? He walks in and drops the card on the couch.

“Ouch,” Junmyeon says. Jongin turns to him, surprised. “Hello.”

Junmyeon is using a comfortable shirt and shorts, looking like he just woke from a nap. Jongin blinks.

“What are you doing here…?” He checks his watch to see if he spent too much time talking. “It’s early…”

“I know,” Junmyeon says, tapping the couch. “Yixing is taking one for the team and being in my place for today.”

Jongin looks around and checks the place. There are dirty dishes on the table and the tv is on, but the volume is low. He sits next to Junmyeon.

“What happened?” Jongin asks, worried. His heart is beating faster – what if… it’s the ‘talk’ time?

“I didn’t want to work today. I mean, I did want to, but I couldn’t just be productive and sometimes I just stay there, waiting just in case someone needs me, but today I decided I wanted to go out,” Junmyeon picks a book next to him. “I went out, bought some food, watched a movie and then came back home. I was reading your book, I hope you don’t mind.”

It’s _Lady Chatterley’s lover_.

“No, I don’t,” Jongin giggles. “Do you know that this book has… sex descriptions, right?”

“Oh,” Junmyeon looks at it. “I didn’t get to this part yet. Do you study pornography in fiction?”

“It’s not pornography,” Jongin smiles, because Junmyeon is genuinely curious, not judgmental. “And… were you waiting for me?”

“Yes,” he says simply, putting a hand on Jongin’s tight. He’s using a jeans, but he still can see how warm it is.

“I went to Starbucks with a classmate after the test,” he explains quickly. “We were talking, sorry if I—”

“No problem,” Junmyeon rubs Jongin’s thigh. “And how was your day?”

He’s avoiding the word ‘test’, Jongin notices.

“It was better than expected,” Jongin turns to him, leaning on the couch. “I’m good.”

“I’m glad. I was worried about you…” Junmyeon says, gulping and there’s something in his eyes that makes Jongin uncomfortable. They look sad.

“You don’t have to worry,” Jongin says defensively. “It’s just a test. It doesn’t matter if I fail or not.”

Junmyeon sighs deeply and Jongin knows he didn’t like the answer.

“Wanna go out to eat something?” he asks, not looking at Jongin. “You can choose the place. I already ate.”

“No,” Jongin says weakly. He hates to displease Junmyeon. “I just want to take a shower and go to bed. I had a bad night of sleep yesterday…”

“So did I,” Junmyeon says. “That’s okay, baby bear. Relax, you deserve that. You worked hard.”

“You can shower with me,” Jongin says, looking at him pointedly. He doesn’t know if he’s horny or he just wants to cheer Junmyeon, but sex is a great reward no matter the excuse.

“I want to keep reading,” he says dismissively. “Take your time, baby bear. You need to rest and relax.”

Jongin looks at him for a while. He has no idea why this is bothering him so much. Junmyeon has every right to refuse sex when he’s not feeling like it, yet it hurts. Jongin stands up and walks to the bathroom, realizing that this will be his life when he goes back home. Not having his touch or kiss, not having him around to make him feel better. Junmyeon always knew how to take care of him, to treat him nicely and firmly; now Jongin sits on the bath, fully dressed, and tears up, feeling hopeless.

  
  
  
  


Nothing truly changes.

Junmyeon goes back to his work routine but takes Jongin to a dinner in the weekend, a nice place in another city, near the beach. When they get back home, they fuck like they used to do. Junmyeon is still a bit angry, but he blames on his lack of sleep. Jongin goes to classes and sometimes goes out with Amber and her friends, feeling like a teenager. His family is excited to see him again and Jongin can’t contain his excitement, thinking about the kids waiting for him.

One night, just days before the travel, he gets home after going out with Amber.

“Hey,” he takes off his shoes and notices Junmyeon in the kitchen.

“Hey,” Junmyeon says from the kitchen. “Welcome home, baby bear.”

Jongin goes to see him and laughs loud when he sees Junmyeon, in a pink apron, cooking on their barely used oven. It’s smelling like chicken and spicy and Jongin licks his lips, leaning on the door and crossing his arms.

“It’s smelling delicious,” Jongin says. “Can I eat?”

“Of course, but won’t you ask what it is?” Junmyeon giggles, picking a bag of garlic. “That’s important.”

“The most important is if I can eat,” Jongin says.

“Fine,” Junmyeon says, pushing his hair back. “It’s my mother’s chicken recipe and it’ll be ready in twenty minutes.”

Jongin sits at the kitchen table and puts the bookstore bag over it.

“I went to a LGBT bookstore today,” he explains. “That’s why I got late… My friend Amber took me there. It was nice.”

Junmyeon smiles and glances at him – every time Jongin went out, Junmyeon seemed to be weirdly satisfied, as if it was his plan all along. Jongin even asked Amber if she was being paid to be his friend, and she asked him to look for professional help to cure his self-esteem problems.  

“Bought only books?” He asks before tasting something in a wooden spoon.

“Some modern books but also cookies and pins,” Jongin says proudly, too. “I brought one for you…”

“Thank you,” Junmyeon smiles.

“Why are you home earlier?” Jongin asks carefully.

“Wanted to cook,” Junmyeon says simply and doesn’t offer any further explanation. He serves Jongin later and they eat together. They talk about the books Jongin bought and Junmyeon keeps his tiny rainbow pin. They go to bed and sleep, bodies close, warming each other.

  
  
  
  


Jongin receives his test back on the same day he’s going back home. While the students are already worrying about the paper after seeing their test results, Jongin looks at the small “Very good, but you need to watch out for your syntax!” in the corner of the paper as if it was a Nobel Prize. He leaves class smiling and he stays like that in his way out of the building, when he sees a familiar face in front of a long, black car on the college parking.

“Hello,” Yixing says. He’s using classic sunglasses, a white, soft white shirt, jeans and converse. He’s probably not coming from work. “I was about to call you. What a coincidence…”

“Is it?” Jongin asks. “Are you waiting for me?”

“Yes,” Yixing walks to him. “I am. I wished we could take a walk together. I’ve heard there’s good coffee around.”

Jongin hates coffee, but he knows it’s not about that. They start walking when Yixing passes an arm around Jongin’s back.

“How are you, dear?” Yixing asks. “You look happy.”

“Yes, I am,” Jongin says. “I’m coming home today.”

“So I’ve heard,” Yixing looks at the front – at least, he looks like he is; his eyes are protected by the glasses. “I want to talk about that.”

Jongin walks without saying anything. He feels anxious – how much Yixing knew? Jongin knew that he was Junmyeon’s best friend, of course, but he never asked how much Junmyeon shared with him.

“I know you’re in a difficult moment right now. I myself had never been to college,” Yixing confesses, covering his mouth. “I started working at seven on TV. I started making money early, so… I guess one day I may try. It sounds fun.”

“It’s very stressful,” Jongin says and yes, he’s being sincere.

“Yes, Junmyeon told me you were under pressure…” Yixing sighs and he touches Jongin’s arm gently. “He worries about you. Junmyeon worries about most people, it’s true. He’s a caretaker, with no doubt. But he’s especially worried about you.”

Jongin looks down to his feet and touches his bag unconsciously. He knows it, but listening makes him feel even worse. He doesn’t ay anything and Yixing keeps talking.

“I’ve been his friends for many years… I think he was never truly happy back at his home, you know? His family was a heavy weight. The only thing that he did was work, never had one day of fun. I lost the count of how many times I asked him to go out with me. I’m not a party guy, you see. All I wanted him to do was to have fun with our friends. To travel, to go to the beach…”

They went to the beach twice, Jongin thinks. Most of the time, Jongin was alone, but Junmyeon had one or two evenings to spend with him.

“But then you two became a thing and he started to go out more, just a little bit… not with me,” Yixing fakes being angry and it’s kind of adorable. Jongin smiles. “But that’s fine. I was happy, anyway. He looked more relaxed. Then, here, he became someone else. Someone who still works hard, but… he’s quite different. A good change.”

Jongin thinks about his words in silence.

“I know you must feel lonely,” Yixing says empathetically. “It’s a sad life, to be with someone who already married work first. There’s a reason why I’m single…”

Yixing sighs deeply and Jongin smiles again.

“But the truth is that I’m not in love,” Yixing says simply. “And he is.”

Jongin gulps and pretends his heart isn’t beating that hard in his chest; a lady passes by with a dog, he looks at it to distract himself.

“He uses a picture of you at his laptop wallpaper, you’re in the beach. Everyone thinks that’s a random model and that he just downloaded it somewhere,” Yixing laughs. “Then he says, _no! It’s my baby bear. He’s real!_ Like that, with a cute smile. If I ask him whose present is that, he says the same. _For my baby bear._ It’s cute.”

 

Jongin feels a weird urge to cry – it’s dumb and childish but he just wants to sit on the ground and cry like a baby. He keeps walking, trying to stay quiet enough to not hurt himself.

“I noticed he’s trying to work less lately, I can’t imagine any other reason why besides your good influence, really,” Yixing smiles. “There’s no reason for a man to achieve that much and have no one to share, especially someone with such a big heart and—“

“No offense,” Jongin turns to him, stopping. “But why the fuck are you telling me this?”

Yixing seems to be taken aback with the bad word and he takes off his sunglasses.

“I expected us to discuss this in a private environment,” he says gently. “I have personal things to tell you.”

“There’s no such a thing as private for me,” Jongin smiles sadly. “All I do isn’t personal, but business.”

Yixing doesn’t look surprised, nor shocked. He just nods, licking his lips.

“He’s stressed lately,” Yixing says simply. “He thinks that you won’t come back.”

“Maybe I won’t,” Jongin says defiantly. “Maybe my time here is over. I have things to do back at home.”

Yixing doesn’t look intimidated – in fact, based on what Jongin can see in a noisy street and in a windy, cold weather, his eyes know something.

“I don’t know the nature of your relationship,” he starts, careful looking down. “Not my business. All I know is that he loves you. It’s a genuine love, Jongin. I don’t think he even fell this hard before. He’s afraid of losing you. To be honest, he has always been. He keeps pushing you to find new things here because he wants to start a life with you, Jongin. That’s his plan.”

“And why are you telling me this?” Jongin asks again, frustrated.

“Because I want you to know,” Yixing says simply. “You need to know that.”

“Why did you tell me about thinking I wouldn’t be here anymore, then?” Jongin is exasperated. “Didn’t he want me back home?”

“Yes, he wanted you to see your family. He can see that you’re lonely,” Yixing answers easily like it’s obvious. “He’s not that selfish, but I’m sure he wants you back as soon as possible.”

Jongin looks down, breathes deeply until he feels like he won’t cry.

“Thanks for telling me this,” he says. “I’m going home. Bye.”

He doesn’t wait for Yixing’s answer. He just keeps walking. When he realizes he can’t walk home, he hails a cab – it takes fifteen minutes and a single tear falls down his face and he doesn’t wipe it. The ride home is as painful as he expects and he looks at the buildings, at the songs, at every corner of the city getting ready for Christmas like it’s a nostalgic movie.

He’s alone in the apartment and he picks his suitcase and gets out before he starts to cry. He left most clothes, shoes, and books. He only packed the necessary. On the cab to the airport, he gets a message.

**bunnydaddy** hey, when you get home, don’t forget to pick a coat!

**bunnydaddy** be careful!

**bunnydaddy** I’ll miss you, baby bear ):

 

Jongin looks at them and sends back,

**babybear** I love you

 

before throwing the phone off the window.

  
  
  
  
  
  


.

 

Jongin thought that he had enough energy to take care of two kids, but he’s sleepy before them. His sister picks their child and his mother goes to bed early. It’s cold and he wants to sleep but he’s too tired – he spent the day with them, running and carrying two not-babies-anymore. He forgot how nice it was to spend Christmas home. He ate too much, but he was happy and satisfied. He lays on the couch and smiles, without having to check his phone. His new one is pink and huge, with lots of stickers on it. Jongin had time to relax and buy things, talk to his friends and spend time with his family. When Christmas is over, he’s going to search for something to do. He’s keeping an eye in a university with a good program in Literature, but he’s tired when he thinks about applying. Maybe he should get some small job before – something that he could be busy, but not too busy.  

He looks at the window and breathes. He shouldn’t be that anxious, he thinks. He faced worse things; he needs to face new challenges. To be unafraid. He rubs his socked feet on the couch and relaxes. Not now, when he’s digesting his mother’s porridge.

The doorbell rings. Normally, Jongin wouldn’t run to open the door. It’s hard for him to remember this house as his home… but he doesn’t want the kids to wake up, so he goes downstairs, putting his phone on the pocket and yawning. Everyone is sleeping and only the main room light is on. It’s too cold and too late for a visit, so Jongin checks before opening and he stops for a moment because he thinks he’s losing his mind.

He looks inside, verifies if everyone’s is really upstairs and then opens the door.

Junmyeon turns to him. He’s using a beret and a really long coat and it’s cute and scary at the same time.

“Hello,” he smiles, but his tone is unsure. “Did I wake you?”

Jongin takes some time to answer. He’s tasting the voice, the eyes, the smile. It feels like an eternity since they were together and it’s less than a month. He notices the rainbow pin on Junmyeon's coat.

“No,” Jongin mumbles. “I… no.”

“I… wanted to call you before coming,” he explains quickly. “But you’ve changed your number and… I don’t… know it…”

Jongin just stares. He thought many times about calling Junmyeon – he knew the number by heart – but every time he felt like an addict. _I left New York for a reason,_ he repeated to himself late at night, when he was a bit drunk and full of feelings.

“I’m sorry if it looked invasive,” Junmyeon bows suddenly. “I… just had a thing to give to you.”

“I don’t want your gifts,” Jongin spits. “Nothing from your money.”

Junmyeon seems to be surprised, but he recomposes himself easily and extends a book, wrapped in plastic.

“It’s not from me,” Junmyeon says, gulping. “It’s a book from your Professor. Apparently, he gives a book to every visiting student on the last class, but you… weren’t there. Your friend Amber picked it for you, she contacted me and gave me.”

Jongin picks it, avoiding contact. It’s Pride and Prejudice, Jongin’s choice for the paper. He just signed the list, but he never even read, after knowing that he would leave.

“Ah,” he whispers, taking it from the plastic wrapping. “Thank you… I’m sorry for giving you this headache.”

“It was nothing,” Junmyeon smiles, pressing his face down his thick scarf. “I came to visit my family and your house is not that far. I just got lost and got late. I was hoping to be here earlier, to not bother you.”

There’s a dedication, written in ink pen.

_To Jongin, I hope you never lose your interest in cheesy stories! Some of them are worthy. Professor Rossetti._

Jongin feels like he has no strength to stand and yet, he doesn’t fall to his knees.

“I guess it was all,” Junmyeon says. “Say hello to the tiny ones. Sorry for anything.”

“I’m sorry for being rude,” Jongin finally reacts. “This was very nice of you. You didn’t have to do it, I’m grateful.”

Junmyeon looks at him and keeps the tiny smile on his face.

“You look gorgeous tonight,” he mumbles and then he gets embarrassed as if it just slipped from his mouth. Jongin giggles, almost breaking the door handle he's holding.

“You always say that,” Jongin sighs. “But now I’m in my pajamas. This isn’t true at all.”

Junmyeon giggles too and he looks down before staring at Jongin again.

“Can I ask you something?”

Jongin breathes deeply.

“Maybe,” he says, fearing that the question is “why did you leave”. “You can ask. I don’t promise any answer.”

“Fair enough,” Junmyeon nods, licking his lips. “The message you sent me… before the flight… was it true?”

Jongin gaped; he almost forgot about his reckless confession. Junmyeon is just there, standing, looking gorgeous on his quiet, soft aura, with cars and the late night behind him and Jongin asks himself: was it true?

“Yes,” he concludes. “I love you.”

Simple. He knows why. Now, in the door of his home, surrounded by his family and no longer depending on Junmyeon, it’s not that embarrassing. He’s not a misguided escort. He’s a lost guy on his twenties, who had a lot of experiences and wants to settle down. That’s all. This Jongin can love Junmyeon – he owes him nothing.

Junmyeon nods slowly, smiling.

“I’m free these days…” he says quietly. “Couldn’t stand being in my office. Are you free tomorrow?”

“Maybe,” Jongin mumbles, his heart beating faster. “Why?”

“Perhaps you would like to go on a date…” Junmyeon suggests shyly. “So we get to know each other.”

“Yes,” Jongin pretend he’s focused, but he’s screaming inside. Even the city noises sound like a romantic song. “We need to talk. It would be bad if I found out that the guy I love tells people dad jokes. That would be embarrassing.”

“Everybody laughs when I tell them jokes,” Junmyeon complains, almost whining.

“That’s because you’re the boss,” Jongin rolls his eyes. “They want to please you. The jokes are super lame.”

“Ah, now you’re going to tell me you hate pet names too?” Junmyeon sounds infuriated, but he’s smiling. “Huh?”

“No,” Jongin says slowly, walking out in that cold weather. “I love them. If they’re very cheesy, I love them even more…”

Junmyeon walks closer to hold Jongin. It’s really cold, but Jongin feels warmer inside of his hold. He cups Junmyeon’s face and leans down to kiss him. The kiss tastes like cinnamon, warm drinks, and home.

“Ah, missed this,” he breaks the kiss to whisper to Jongin. “I love you, baby bear.”

 

 

 

 

.

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to follow the prompt exactly, including the designed OTP :) It's my first time writing about this subject (and pairing!) and I don't think I would ever write about it if my original recipient hadn't dropped, but I had so much fun! I hope the prompter like this. 
> 
> The mentioned books are all Eng. Lit. classics and the fragments belong to them. Thanks for reading!


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